Adrift
by jtav
Summary: Sequel to Confined. Miranda might be back on the Normandy, but the suicide mission cost her everything she once held dear. If she can't have happiness, she'll take pleasure. Now to convince Kaidan...


The unopened bottle of Serrice Ice Brandy stands on the desk, mocking her. Miranda had found it by accident while looking for some bandages to tend the gunshot wound Garrus had received on Sur'Kesh. The last of Chakwas' private reserves and a reminder of happier times. Miranda bows her head. This is not her ship or her crew. The Alliance ripped out the guts of the _Normandy_. The observation decks have been replaced by expanded missile batteries and her old rooms turned in to a standard military bunk for the closest thing the ship has to an XO, though she suspects Kaidan is really here to make sure that Shepard doesn't go completely off the rails. As for the crew... Miranda closes her eyes. She's the last surviving member of Lazarus Cell. Her fault.

_"We can't afford to send anyone back..." "I could do it too. In theory, any biotic could maintain the field..."_

Jacob and the rest of the crew paid for those misjudgments with their lives. So now Miranda is in the med bay, filling the role of medic as best she can. She's aware she's gone down in the world. From the woman who raised Shepard from the dead, to her XO, to ship's doctor. How the mighty have fallen. She hardly ever leaves the ship these days, chasing down leads to find the Illusive Man before he finds them and tending to the crew when she's not doing that. Kaidan can fill her role in combat well enough, and she's still a damn good doctor.

Kaidan. The man who has so effectively usurped her role. Her opposite number. They might have been friends if she had never joined Cerberus or he had never joined the Alliance. Maybe more than friends. She recognizes something in him. The tension that courses through him when he holds himself still, the quiet, not-quite-hesitant way he speaks. All that raw physical and biotic power he has to keep leashed. The paragon of control, just like her.

Which makes it that much more delightful to make him lose it. Her cheeks heat at the memory of him looming over her. His weight had settled against her, hard and unyielding. She remembers the feel of muscle through his shirt. Sweat wafting through the air. Loud, hoarse pants in her ear. All that power completely devoted to restraining her, and _she_ was the one who made him lose control. She might have lost her rank, but she still has power. And she'd been able to forget about Jacob, Chambers, and Chakwas for a moment.

Kaidan himself walks through the door. Outwardly, he's as cool and composed as ever. Navy blue shirt perfectly tucked in and not a hair out of place. His eyes, though, flicker uncertainly in a way they hadn't before when he looks at her. She knows what he's going to say: the usual spiel about how "he isn't normally that sort of person" and he "hopes she can forgive him for his uncharacteristic lapse in behavior." Etc. etc. As if she wasn't goading him to do it.

But for now she'll stick to the script like a good little girl. "Can I help you, Commander?"

He clears his throat. "I, um, wanted to apologize for the other day. It was stupid and I won't let it happen again."

_When I'm right, I'm right._ "Nothing to apologize for."

Guilt and momentum carry him forward. "I don't do this sort of thing lightly. I just snapped a little. Stress, you know." He rubs the back of his neck. The gesture makes him look suddenly boyish, almost adorable.

Miranda doesn't want adorable. She wants to break through that reserve again. Make him lose control again and throw her to the ground or up against the bulkhead. Prove to herself that she still has power and isn't just another stray following Shepard because she has nowhere else to go. "This sort of thing is an excellent stress relief. And I wouldn't be averse to it happening again."

His cheeks flush. "I told you that I don't do it lightly. And whatever I think of you, I don't want to use you."

"Use me?" She laughs, and the sound is harsh and bitter in her ears. "It's not using me if I want it. I'm not looking for hearts and flowers and a house with a white picket fence and 2.5 children. All I want is to amuse myself a bit before the end." The words are ashes in her mouth. There was a time when she thought she could have both the fulfillment of being an operative and the relief of having a normal life and the family she built for herself. Half of those dreams died with Greenway's letter and the other with Jacob and the rest of the crew.

She takes a step forward. Proximity without contact seems to rob him of his control. He must realize the same thing. It's like coaxing a wild animal. Miranda moves slowly, but not quite slowly enough. Kaidan takes a step back and then another.

Miranda's cheeks burn. It's been a very long time since she's had to seduce someone, but not so long that she should have forgotten how. Kaidan should be standing there slack-jawed and waiting for her to approach. She's going to have to fight for this, as she has fought for everything. What's given can be taken back, but Miranda keeps what she takes for herself.

"So what do you want?" She pitches her voice so that it's low and seductive.

"To beat the Reapers."

This she understands. For three years, she thought of little else. But she wants something to make the sacrifice bearable. Everyone she loved is dead except for Oriana, and Oriana will never know her. If she can't have happiness, she'll have pleasure. "What else? What does the second human Spectre want in his heart of hearts?"

"Peace," he murmurs, so softly Miranda can barely hear him.

_Same here._ "And aren't you interested in whether I can grant that?"

She takes another step forward. He does not move away.

Miranda draws closer, closer. The only sounds are his increasingly ragged breathing and the _tap-tap_ of her heels on metal. She can see his eyes, a thousand different shades of brown swirling within. She stops just short of him. He wears no cologne, but the scent of something that might be pine needles clings to him all the same. The muscles of his chest and arms are visible even beneath his uniform. All that raw strength. Miranda licks her lips. Yes, she wants this for herself.

Miranda reaches for him, almost but not quite touching. Her hand hovers over his chest. "Such admirable restraint. I know a little about what that's like. One outburst, and you can accidentally break every bone in someone's body. People like you and I have to be responsible." Her hand slides upwards and outwards, over the shoulders and down his arms but never quite touching. The heat from him is palpable, almost intoxicating, and Miranda can feel an answering heat springing within her. It radiates outward from her chest until it fills every inch of her, sweeping away all the failure, guilt, and grief.

Her hand moves upward, tracing along his jaw line and hovering over his hair. "But you? Always following every regulation. Never so much as a hair out of place." She has the sudden urge to run her fingers through his hair. She doesn't. That would be breaking the rule of this little game. He must be the one to initiate contact. She can't force, she can only persuade. "Surely you must have one or two regrets. A time when you wish you had been bolder."

"Yes," he whispers. His eyes are pained, and Miranda wonders if he's thinking of Shepard.

She matches his whisper, letting the breath carry the implications. "Then do what you want. I don't know about you, but I'm sick of regret."

"Someone really ought to gag you." His voice is back, but it's a low throb. "Listening to you is dangerous."

"Yes." She thinks of Jacob and the others who died because of her bad advice. "Very dangerous indeed. But you're still here."

"I am." He shakes his head. "Hell."

And then he is on her. One arm snakes around her waist, crushing her to him. The other tangles in her hair, dancing on the knife's edge between pressure and pain. Kaidan is a solid wall of muscle. He's strong enough to hold her and keep her for as long as she lets herself be held. His palm digs into the small of her back. She lets the sensation carry her away. Somewhere else. Somewhere were she still has power to control even the strong. Even Kaidan.

"Got you." His voice is half-whisper, half -growl.

Victory.


End file.
